Captive Heart by Anna Windsor

out her tinted window. Her leathers would probably protect her if she jumped, right?
    “What the hell was that little drama between you and Jack Blackmore?” Dio’s tone didn’t quite reach accusatory, but it got close.
    “Nothing.” Andy almost shouted the word because she was still so pissed over that—over the—over him . Just him. Unbelievable that she hadn’t tried to drown the bastard all over again. Her own self-control amazed her.
    Dio kept her chin high and turned her eyes forward, but Andy felt wave after wave of something coming off her despite the elementally treated leather suit that should have contained at least a portion of Dio’s power. Some sort of energy that reminded her vaguely of the movements of water and the sea. Andy had no idea what it was or why she was sensing it, but the urge to say something about it grew like an itch until she had to scratch it.
    “What’s your problem, Dio?”
    “My problem?” A sharp burst of air blew through the backseat, stirring Dio’s wispy blond hair all across her delicate face. She squeezed the door handle with one hand, and with the other she toyed with the vicious three-clawed African throwing knives forming her belt and hanging in long strips down both legs. “That whole scene back at the brownstone—too weird.”
    The energy surging from Dio increased. Anger , Andy’s instincts told her. She felt like she was gazing into a pool, seeing layers of water flowing with different shades and temperatures. Mistrust. Suspicion. Worry. But at base, deep in the well, the source is … confusion .
    “You felt surprised and confused by the undercurrents you picked up between Jack and me.” Andy took a breath, trying not to let her thoughts speed up to match Dio’s air energy. “Well, welcome to the club.”
    Dio let off another hair-raising burst of wind. “Surpr—confused? No way.” She glared at Andy all over again, and this time suspicion crept into her storm-gray eyes. “Dear Goddess. Did Elana finally manage to teach you how to read emotions?”
    Andy couldn’t look away from Dio even though she knew it was probably a good idea. Her first instinct was to lie, but as usual, she reverted to honesty. “She’s been trying to make me learn, but I didn’t think I was getting it. I’m not sure—but yeah, I think I’m picking up feelings from you.”
    Dio’s eyes darkened. From off in the distance came the ominous rumble of thunder out of a clear sky. “Stay out of my head.”
    Andy could almost smell the acrid lightning threatening to explode thanks to Dio’s unusual and definitely unsanctioned weather-making talent. Dio had almost been denied the chance to join a fighting group because the talent had proved so dangerous in the past that the Mothers feared it, and she was absolutely forbidden to use it in battle. That wouldn’t stop her from bursting Andy’s eardrums with thunder or planting a crackle of lightning across Andy’s forehead. There, in the back of the SUV with Dio quivering from anger and discomfort, Andy understood why the Mothers wanted nothing to do with weather making.
    “Emotion reading is one of her jobs, Dio.” Camille, the most level-headed fire Sibyl on the planet, weighed in from the front seat, trying to calm things down. “Flow. As in the emotional flow of the fighting group. She’s supposed to sense our emotions and help us work through them—not that your feelings are so hard to sense anyway.”
    More thunder turned loose, this time right above the SUV. “Bullshit!” Dio’s hands stayed in her lap. Her fingers twitched. “Nobody gets to poke around inside me like I’m some sort of child who needs soothing.”
    Nobody said a word in response, because that was exactly how Dio often behaved. They all knew it—even Dio. Andy tried to make herself watch Manhattan’s scenery flow by outside her window, but the buildings, sidewalks, and people all seemed like a sun-drenched blur.
    “Something did go down